


It's Hip To Fuck Bees

by Mimiga



Series: Lewds N Junk [3]
Category: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon
Genre: BDSM, Entomology, F/M, Impregnation, Meaning I did some vivid research into bug dicks, Other assorted degeneracies, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:53:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7692235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimiga/pseuds/Mimiga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I used to be a renegade, I used to FUCK around<br/>But I couldn't take the punishment, and had to settle down<br/>Now I'm playing it real straight, and yes I FUCK my BEES<br/>You might think I'm crazy, but I don't even care<br/>Because I can tell what's going on<br/>It's hip to FUCK BEES<br/>It's hip to FUCK BEES</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Hip To Fuck Bees

Finally, the sweet scent was beginning to draw nearer. Its direction could just barely be discerned while riding on the chaotic upper winds, yet its presence was undeniably the foreground of all the other subtle trails drifting in the sky. The Mothim which flitted far above the trees, once certain of where to continue, dropped several feet in altitude before speeding off so that it might not be skewed by any swirling gales. This was a scheme he had particularly made well-rehearsed. While it had yet to fail, that didn't mean every attempt had gone in the most perfect ways. He had been struck, spotted, chased down, and very nearly killed in some of the harsher regions. But for a reward of such high caliber, there was truly no resisting this urge to keep tracing it anyway. 

Riddled with a saccharine hunger, Mothim peered down past the canopy as he flew by so that the hive which drew him so did not slip by. There must have been some sort of hidden abyss blanketed with foliage where the sweetness would be most potent. Though there was no telling just how small of a hole that abyss could be, his eyes scanned through shifting leaves for any such opening. The dangers associated with entering a Combee's lair were far too imposing for most pokemon, and he knew exactly what would be at stake to indulge in a true act of gluttony like stealing away with their precious honey, for he was already an expert at it. The thrill of challenging a hive's security was but a minor aspect in his will to dance with death. 

...There! At the declining slope of a steep hill, very nearly invisible beneath the camouflage of brush and branch, came the strongest whiff he had been graced with in this whole valley. It very nearly made Mothim lightheaded as he turned sharply towards the mouth of the cave. Alas, the clever natural disguise was not nearly enough to mask the nectar being freshly made from within. And it certainly wouldn't during a spring this booming, where there was likely so much production that building organic structures to contain it all was nearly impossible. Even if it were, the wax being used as mortar could not solidify in time to keep all of these delicious aromas from escaping into the outside. That didn't necessarily encourage the less stoic to plunge head-first into a hostile unknown. But today, that honey will be his. 

Landing on the grassy surface just to the side of the cave, Mothim first listened intently for the echoing buzz of its busy inhabitants. The noise seemed distant. Quiet, even. Either this homestead was far more depthy than any other he had invaded, or the occupancy at this current moment was low due to a productive day out collecting. The ambitious bug type prayed for the latter as he finally moved forward to peer into the darkness for any resting stragglers. In doing so, the smell of the Vespiquen's treasury grabbed hold of his mental processes with an iron grip and sent his head into dizzy spins. The wax holding the stuff couldn't have been more than a day old if such a heavenly odor could spill so freely through a mile of winding tunnels. Shuddering, he took in a bold lungful of his sins and crawled hastily into the opening. 

Driving deeper into the earth took some time, as it usually did if any degree of caution was to be preserved in such a distracting environment. Very quickly did the scene transition into absolute blackness, and any sense of smell that could tell of danger was ultimately drowned beneath sugary weight. Even hearing was impaired by the constant ambiance that characterized a colony's tunnels, which grew more narrow the longer he felt his way through. A more discreet worker could easily slip behind him and alert the entire underground in the time it would take to realize one buzzing was closer than the rest. The entire populace would collapse down on him if that were to happen again. All the more reason to focus on keeping his wits about while so many of his senses were deafened in this kingdom. To keep from being discovered, and to be able to quickly recall the route to the exit should such an unfortunate turn of events occur. 

But as the unnerving white noise drew nearer and the web of interconnecting tunnels pressed further down, nothing came. He had yet to even encounter anyone while stumbling so ignorantly from tight squeeze to squeeze. It must have been an incredible stroke of luck to have picked up on this scent during such a busy time of the day. All he had to do was delve just a bit more through fear and paranoia, binge on all the sugary ambrosia he could without falling into a coma, and make a swift escape once night fell and slumber overcame most of the guards. There was no way a whole hive could rouse from their sleep quick enough to intercept a burglar who was already well on his way to leaving. He gathered this strategy from the last three times he had been caught out after the sun had fallen, and the colonies seemed to consistently fall to it. Only a pokemon as daring as he could uncover such golden secrets to abuse. 

Just as the scent of pure honey began to burn slightly from sheer intensity was when there began curious glitters of light strewn about the packed walls. Tiny pockets of some kind of milky crystal had appeared at this depth, growing larger and more luminescent the more vertical this particular passage became. His eyes had adjusted to the dim shine guiding him by the time a cavern had finally opened up, and just as soon also began to sting from what powerful substance lied within. The atmosphere of the room was thick, and not just because of how deeply nestled underground it was. There were many larger crystalline formations digging into the soil and brightening the entire area, including entire mounds of glistening, dark honey nearly spilling from the misshapen hexagonal walls they were contained within. Mothim hardly even hesitated to stretch out his wings before lunging forward to dive between the gates of heaven. 

It was everything he could have ever hoped for. Never mind the raw wax and residue which clung to him and made his figure sticky, for through his tube-like tongue traveled a viscous fluid that was almost sickeningly delicious. Of all the times he had gotten away with this criminal indulgence, never before had he tasted such a ripe harvest as this, digging his legs into soft mold as he plunged his proboscis deeper into the nectar. The bountiful valley to the east must have been to blame for this delicacy, as its meadows were nearly neon with blooming color when he had passed over them just an hour earlier. A breath of preparation and joy, and back he went into the shimmering honey with redoubled enthusiasm. Only in the back of his mind did he acknowledge the slight twinge of sexual arousal that rung from gorging himself on the flavor, as strange as it may have seemed. Maybe it had something to do with the danger of it all? 

Something he should have kept heeding, as there was absolutely no detecting the Combee that had fluttered into the room, carrying with it another crude container of honey for the stockpile. At first the two were completely oblivious of the other, going about their business without a care in the world. But soon enough did the diligent worker notice that something was amiss with the other inhabitant, catching silently on to the scheme that was occurring right before its eyes. The Mothim would notice the Combee a few moments later as well, mainly from the sudden blast of a strange texture exploding across his back. Realization and despair both hit much harder than the defensive secretion as he twisted around and tried desperately to unveil his wings and flee, only to be weighed down and ultimately impaired by the substance. He could hardly even run as the pungent smell of alarm accompanied a shrill screech that echoed through the chamber. 

Mothim tried desperately to scramble up the sheer wall from whence he came with dirty legs, feeling his hearts pump cold panic through his system upon hearing an approaching buzz from the hole he was just about to escape into. Another blast of the hot wax stuck him to the very surface he failed to climb. There was only enough leeway to turn his belly defensively outward before the secretion began to fulfill its purpose as a kind of glue, sealing his fate to the wall while even more Combee flooded to the rallying call of their brethren. 

"Intruder! Intruder!" shouted the original that had stumbled upon him first. The many that came in yelled a similar chant to perpetuate the alert as far as it would reach, their cacophony rising over the grunting of his own fruitless struggle. Several more shot wads of the binding agent at the few spots where movement might have been possible if he tugged just a little harder. Once certain he was incapacitated, a single Combee departed from the trove still screaming of his presence. In the final moments before the entirely of his hope had sank to the bottom of the icy sea, Mothim contemplated how peculiar it was to meet death with such a divine taste still lingering in his mouth. 

"Intruder? Where?" 

"The honey! Did it get the honey?" 

"He's right there! I can see him!" 

All the Combee in the room crowed noisily around the defeated slump of the Mothim, carrying gazes of either curiosity or disdain at the creature who had the gall to trespass onto their lair. Some had probably never even seen a pokemon quite like him before, trapped in the ignorant safety of this somber cave. A shallow sigh pushed its way through the hardening lump in his throat as he tried frantically to accept the impending doom which would await him once the Vespiquen came. It was a demise deserving of someone as selfish as him, losing himself in the very epicenter of one of the most dangerous places for miles. What did he think was going to happen? At least his final supper was one more than worthy of being such, right? 

Then came the prodding of those whose fear of the stranger had already melted away. He winced and sucked in a breath each time he felt a Combee's touch, unsure of whether their inquisitiveness would become bludgeoning at the mere turn of a second. Others, disinterested in the foreign creature, continued to sound the incessant alarm that someone had broken into their most precious vault. Just beneath that and the unceasing motion of wings were several murmurs of discovery each time he flinched away. What exactly was so amazing about another organism cowering in fear while bound to a wall he did not know, shutting his eyes tight and trying to ignore their pestering as best he could before the guillotine truly dropped. 

Too quickly did his whimpering become a yelp as something sensitive on his lower abdomen was brushed against. His eyes shot open with surprise and strained to look downward, catching a glimpse of the two fanned white appendages flaring up from the attention; his own inflating androconial organs. Once more did the curious Combee pass over it, seemingly understanding of the vastly differing reaction to his normal cringing, and again did his taut hairs standing on end elicit an incredible ticklish sensation that shot up the Mothim's body like lightning. His struggling took new meaning as the rest of his onlookers found this response to be particularly groundbreaking and tried to recreate it. The organs' sole purpose was to attract mates in very specific seasons, and now a couple mindless insects were effortlessly arousing him to the point of dusting the very air with his pheromones. 

In these moments of utter dread, it was a startling revelation that embarrassment and sexual frustration could bloom so powerfully. He twisted and fought and pushed with the rest of his forsaken might just to hide his revealed genitals, swallowing tiny moans and streams of giggling all the same. The androconia themselves twitched balefully from the cruelty inflicted upon them, never having been meant to be the target of so much physical attention. He could only pray that the Combee would not notice the inevitable emergence between the two organs of his true sexual member, lest the last few minutes of his life be filled with being relentlessly teased by the clueless horde. 

"What is it?" one of them asked to another, hypnotized by the way the appendages they played with blew up and bounced erratically. 

"It's fun!" They replied and proceeded to blow a lungful of air across the cilia just to watch the creature which owned them writhe with unwanted stimulation. None had any idea what kind of effect they had on the Mothim, forcing him to crave a pleasure strangely similar to the molten sugar that still wafted across the room. Floating amidst the wondrous odor was the shameful and distinct scent of his own lust, doomed to attract a mate that wasn't there. There used to be a ledge somewhere, but along the line he had slipped off and found that the copious presence of his own sexual chemicals in the air made his aedeagus, the most common phallic sexual organ among bug types, throb that much harder. 

Just as sudden as it had began, the touching had stopped and the Combee all fell deathly silent. He immediately thought little of the drastic change, for the relief of catching his breath was far too great to pass up. But then he felt once more the burning want of his exposed genitalia, now left sensitive and twitching from the breeze of so many beating wings, and he remembered like a knife in the dark the peril he was in. Opening his eyes to the dim glow of the room filled him with much more dread than if he had kept them tightly shut and let the unknown do its work. The silhouette of a nightmare, the Vespiquen of this colony flew slowly down from the ceiling's entrance and glared at the intruder with her cold ruby eyes. 

Then, a velvet voice that felt more like the narration of a death warrant. "A thief? Some poor fool who thought they could crawl as deep as their little legs could carry them into my territory and steal away with my honey?" Her wings droned a much deeper hum than that of her followers as she hovered closer with menace and purpose. Several Combee who weren't even close to the altercation backed away still at the mere hint of motion made by their queen. "It's more a shame I even had to waste my time coming down here if you were pathetic enough to be subdued by a scarce few of my workers. Your own failure is enough to offend me." 

She didn't stop her approach until there was barely three inches between their faces. The only expression Mothim could read from those two eyes was that of a quiet and controlled fury. Not relenting, for it still felt as though at any second she would crack open his abdomen and rip his hearts right out. He couldn't help but turning his head away and squinting like an impact was going to land. Her intimidation was not unlike the way a predator chose their meal for the night. And even then, despite how electric with fright his nerves were, and how vulnerable and hopeless everything seemed, his nethers refused to stop calling out for attention. 

"Pray tell, wretch, why you have come here to sully my prized honey with your filthy presence? Never mind the intentions of your transgression, the fact that you'd have the audacity to underestimate me is enough to lose your head," Vespiquen growled her disdain, finally choosing to show the emotion of her righteousness in her tone. The question went unanswered, as there was nothing he could possibly utter that could save his hide. The queen continued to bare down with her terrible glowering until finally snapping from the silence. "Well!? SPEAK! Do you have no regard for your life? I own your entire future and you would turn your head and IGNORE me?" 

It was then that the Vespiquen finally looked down and noticed the arousal that was splayed against his will for all to see. "A... sexual deviant?" she muttered with a mixture of disgust and confusion. "Is that the cloud of scent I am standing within? Not fear, but the culmination of your attempt at seducing a mate? You disgusting cretin." Across the side of Mothim's face came an ruthless slap which rattled his thoughts and finally poured pain into his cocktail of torture. Despite his best efforts, he could no longer suppress the lusting will of his own body, now wishing that the Combee had persisted in their meddling and brought him at least some release before their monarch had come. 

The ache rang on in his cheek as he looked up at his executioner, only to cry out in pain once more as the Vespiquen wrapped a crushing grip around one of his androconia. A new, icy brand of lightning crashed up his body as his lungs pressed out the rest of their air in a grunt. "Perhaps if you valued these parts, then you wouldn't be so lethally crude in the midst of royalty, thief. You should have kept these things to yourself, lest you give someone the idea of taking them off." Upon relinquishing her hold, she took the time to twirl her fingers through the longest hairs of the organ, creating a strange mix of twitching pleasure and recovering hurt that made him moan regardless. And it was not for only a moment, but for several did she watch him helplessly stir by subsequently running the tips of her nails gently across all three of his sexual appendages. 

"Hm. Is that how it is, you pervert? Do you feel excitement even when in peril?" she hissed, staring at her hands as if they had been tainted. Some spell befell her for a few brief seconds that changed the emotion her gaze portrayed before she shook her head and began again. "There lies the blatant matter of your punishment, of course. My judgement is typically swift and painful, but..." One of her fingers had slipped below while her stare stole his attention and began to play with the tip of a hormonal tube, inflaming every cilia it gingerly graced until she was rewarded with an involuntary thrust. His expense seemed to bring a mild amusement to her otherwise serious eyes. "I see now there are much worse ways to inflict suffering upon you beforehand. At your own sick game, no less. I assure you, I know of many ways to keep you from both rest and relief." 

He expected the worst to immediately unfold upon his nethers and braced for it just as intensely, but nothing happened. In fact, the queen had actually floated away a few feet and instead tilted towards him the chitin dress of her lower torso. The purpose was not clear to him until the first few of the miniature drones awoke from their slumber and emerged to do their telepathic master's bidding. Slowly at first, more and more of the insignificant dots swarmed from beneath the dress and took to the air like a sinister cloud. It took a mere flick of the wrist to send the entire armada his way, and at once he wasn't sure whether he'd have preferred it or not if the thoughtless insects were made to eat him alive. 

The first few drones made their landings almost subtle enough that it couldn't be noticed at all. The same could not be said for the next few thousand, concentrating their numbers on his most sensitive spots just to harmlessly crawl around rather than scornfully bite. The Mothim gave a surprised stutter before sucking in a breath as every inch of his lower body was set upon to be scrutinized and tickled. He felt them dance on every fanning hair, a tingling that stole that air straight from his insides before long and replaced it with flurries of giggling and gasps. Worse were the ones that directly teased his tender aedeagus, which screamed for a duller pleasure instead of countless sharp pangs of unfulfilling excitement. 

"A-ah.. heh.. g- Get them off!" his first words in the presence of the queen had been a plea for mercy, muddled with barely contained laughter and chokes of over-stimulation. Through the agony he could see that Vesipquen's eyes had brightened upon witnessing his twitching misery. The way she stared on without uttering a single word or moving a muscle was not unlike the hypnotism which overcame her earlier. There must have have been some sadistic fetish being quenched, some depraved reason as to why she would take so much joy in watching him beg and squeak like this. He couldn't even try to shake off the drones with how tightly the rubbery wax restrained his abdomen. "Let me go! Puh-hehe...! Please!" 

In response, Vespiquen merely closed the distance between them so that she might be able to observe more closely his desperate attempts at escaping the sensation. Her leveled gaze upon him only made his perseverance slip even further and allowed mere snickers to erupt into full streams of unconstrained groans. It was gruesomely apparent that his kind were meant to mate quickly and begone, as this extended session of teasing had began to sting with a powerful yearning to finish. For just a single heartbeat was that desire met as there suddenly scraped a gracious finger underneath the length of his jagged penis. The more concrete touch sent waves of satisfaction through his body and forced him to buckle against the limit of his bindings. Hopefully he waited for a repeat of the motion, only to have the drones' itching legs take the foreground once more. Having tasted such relief, the Mothim wailed and fought against the gentle hell he was stick within. 

His gratitude when the tiny drones finally did lift off of his form and returned to the body from whence they came was indescribable. But even as their absence became known, he still felt the residue of their tingling influence making him squirm uneasily. The quivering gulps of air he took were deeply appreciated amidst the drool that slipped past his tongue. In no way was he ready for the next session of his punishment, but Vespiquen hovered just beneath and was dangerously close to sensitive places he failed to move away. It was obvious she had already learned of the member which harbored his seed, not even paying attention to the two fuzzy organs and gazing piercingly at the aedeagus which dripped of anticipatory fluids. There was the terrifying chance that, despite their differing species, she was not immune to his pheromones and was being seduced simply from proximity with so much of it. 

The Mothim pressed into her grip just as soon as the palm of her hand grazed at his shaft. The malicious chucking that followed would have made his blood run cold had he not been overheating already from tension. "Aah, this is too easy. You would be crying out in terrible agony for hours upon hours if I so wished you to." She rubbed upward, he whined pathetically and struggled to flap his wings in ecstasy. "And now you've gotten your damn scent everywhere. I can practically smell your desperation sinking into the dirt, calling out for anything that could feather you over the edge. It makes me wonder how much pleading it would take to convince me to finally give you release..." 

She continued to toy with him without need for her drones, twirling her finger over the very tip of his member just to watch him turn restlessly in bondage. As much as he did try, it seemed entirely impossible to will an orgasm into existence, and the attempts only made him more susceptible to becoming enslaved by her touch. And the more intensely he reacted, the more amused she became and perpetuated teetering cycle of moans and swears. At first he thought it was simply the way he tensed up that gave away when he was at his wit's end. Mothim thought to relax the closer he got, even so much as swallow every little noise that tried to escape him, but it was like she always knew just what to do to keep him below the surface. 

"Please.. I'll never s-steal your honey again-nGH! Just let me, haah, leave..!" A swift tug ripped the rest of his words asunder. 

"Now now, that's not the kind of begging I need," the Vespiquen mused as she simply wrapped her hand motionlessly around the aedeagus burning up with blood. "A punishment for your crimes is due, and only I can say when you are pardoned. Is that not the role of a just ruler?" Finally she completed the stroke and audibly relished in his kicking response. Then, with an expert dexterity he questioned the origins of, she had two fingers take turns pacing across every side of him in a terribly efficient pattern. They explored and prodded and made the Mothim scream between shuddering breaths. "You WILL submit and plead, lest I have to break you until dawn. We have only just begun, after all." 

Whether it was voluntary or out of a necessary primal surrender he had no control over, he caved in the full way and shouted at the top of his famished lungs. "I can't- Nnm, take anymore! Plehehease! I'm sorry!" For as much as he thrashed and tugged at the sticky muck that glued him to the earthen wall, there was maybe at most an inch of slack gained. Not that it helped much in alleviating his being edged, but it seemed to pass right underneath the Vespiquen's radar. It probably made her even more excited that he could so expressively writhe in place from the slightest contact of skin. "I'm sohohorry! Let me go!" 

"Wrong again." Once more had she reached down to grasp his androconia and trap the air which inflated it. The pain fused with his lust and only served to confuse the grunt that pushed up his throat. "I can't imagine you've ever fell victim to a mistress as capable and cruel as I before. It must be absolutely unbearable, terribly so. Don't you want to cum already?" 

"Y-yes! Please let me cum, your majesty!" 

Her eyes smiled. "No." 

His vocal struggle to push himself over the edge echoed through the chamber louder than the cumulative buzzing of the entire colony. Every single time the horizon came she would lift her hands away and leave only the cooling air to brush against, reveling in how he thrust for stimulation that would not come. She had even anticipated the sneaky movements he would try to make to steal away with a full stroke instead of having to steel through the teasing tips of her nails. And she would punish the action, wriggling her fingers through the hairs of the adjacent sexual organs simply because the tickling would never be enough to bring about climax. 

A ripping sound occurred just behind his head upon a bodily spasm he could not control. It couldn't have been his wing being torn away from the strain of the bondage, as there was no pain to accompany it. He would have dared to think that his constant and exhausting fighting was beginning to have an effect on the wax, but there were few places he could completely trace a thought in such a maelstrom. With a routine ragged jerk and outcry came another syllable of tearing lower down his back, and then around his side. Just another few centimeters of room to dodge the gingerly hands intoxicated on the power and momentum they had over his whole being. It wouldn't take much more now to break free, there surely had to be enough strength to pry apart the last few molecules..! 

Resounding through the room was something other than his calls for mercy. The mighty substance that cemented him gave way none too quietly as the Mothim surged forward in an adrenaline-fueled burst of his wings. Both he and the Vespiquen collided at the disorienting turn of the instant, the chitin shell spreading the dull ache of concussion through his already bruised form. They collapsed together in a bed of dirt and stone with a thud that rivaled the original painful consequence of his escape. And they both, too, stirred against one another in a dazed attempt to get their bearings before the other. But instead of earning back his orientation, Mothim first realized the regal fertility of the queen he laid atop of and felt an unswerving urge to meet the orgasm he had been denied for so long. 

"You... You insolent...!" Vespiquen's shout transitioned into a roar of rage, bouncing jarringly from the walls as if her fury was the earth's itself. The moment she was able to rise again was the seal to his true demise, and the same could be said when the Combee manage to comprehend what had just happened. He rushed to his senses and scrambled down her hard form, but not to flee. The Mothim had to act fast, there was no one else in the room who could understand the abolishing of both fight and flight as well as his throbbing member did now. Not only were his pheromones and the essence of honey intermingling in the air, but also he smelled the bodily desires of a monarch desperate to breed. And at the moment, that perception would fill him far more easily than even the will to survive. 

There, in the center of the bottom of her hexagonal exoskeleton was the source of the hormones. Her vaginal opening was inflamed, white flesh glistened softly from the cavern's crystalline formations while waiting patiently for a suitable biology to inject their pleasure within. She must have had a great deal of endurance to keep from feeling herself, as the fluids that were meant to make the entry slick were accumulating and shining bright in the dimness. The Mothim twisted his body around with haste, the creature he was standing over the top of had pushed herself to their elbows and growled for her stunned servants to strike already. They would not get the chance to fully receive that order. 

Vespiquen's yelp rose two octaves as his aedeagus would finally find its mark, seamlessly penetrating into her womanhood. Almost instantly her walls began to pulsate hungrily and pull on his member as if to invite it to plunge deeper. His freed wings wildly vibrated to the much anticipated stimulation, an unrestrained moan poured from his mouth that sounded more akin to suffering from chronic pain than drowning in satisfaction. The Mothim could hardly keep his balance while curling over the chitin dress, or keep it in general now that the rest of his body convulsed in rebellion to the sensations below. 

The next time the monarch had the ability to speak, very nearly all of the command her voice possessed before had fallen to a shakier, almost genuine rasp soaked with femininity. "Do you.. do you realize what what you have just done? I.. hnn! I'll have you quartered for this! You-! GET HI- Aah-hh!" He didn't have to tell his body to up the speed of his thrusts, but it was indeed the only way to silence her and remain in control of the situation. Being in control was unfortunately not nearly as pleasing a task to maintain as it was in concept. It became increasingly difficult to keep from climaxing while he was within the warmth of her spermatheca, which was practically designed to milk whatever was forced into it. Mothim's shouts were now ones of concentration and resistance, knowing full well that the only way out of this alive was to so thoroughly please the queen that she would have no chance to launch any counterattacks or orders. 

For the most part, her struggle to rise and retaliate was successfully quelled by the erratic tensing of her entire body, as well as the constant distraction her erogenous zone played. Commands melted into gibberish while the Vespiquen clawed at the dirt beside her in overwhelming bliss. Surely she would have liked to voice her every profanity and malignant name at the filth which had the absolute gall to penetrate her, but it was questionable a clean thought could even form judging from the ridiculous noises she made. Both of their bodies were rebelling to the fullest extents of their sexual desires. This meant that, after all he had been teased and edged, there was no longer any force in the world that could stop this dam from finally shattering under the pressure. 

Legs clutching dearly to the dress, Mothim gave one last thrust as the passage surrounding his flesh squeezed as tightly as it could. His vision started to go dark as the searing finale drew every last inch of air from his lungs in a single whimpering cry. The release felt far sweeter than any honey the most productive and refined colonies could have ever produced throughout the oceans of time. He could feel the sheer volume of his genetic material spilling out the sides and fall in strands toward the soil. Fatigue was next to seize control of his entire being as the moment had just scarcely began to pass, allowing gravity to take a surprise hold and multiply. 

In the short time of recuperation he was forced to adhere to, the occasional suckling of the orifice he was still embedded within was the only thing that could garner even a twitch from his heaving frame. It was like all his muscles had abandoned him and left with the orgasm that now dripped steadily to the earth. Vespiquen seemed to suffer from a similar condition with the way her shallow breathing sounded her to be a lot more meek and feminine that was true, additionally that he hadn't been killed for his transgressions yet. Then came the reminder, desperation to preserve his life was still being pumped throughout his body despite the endorphins that accompanied it. Hesitate any longer and death will surely come much slower and more certain than was promised. Simple edging was nothing compared to the atrocities that would send even those who thought him deserving cringing. 

With a heaviness infesting his ligaments and limbs, just getting to a stand was enough to warrant a grunt of effort, made partly an airy moan from how his sensitive member was reclaimed from the queen's insides. The Mothim turned gradually and began his lethargic journey dragging himself toward the exit, tired genitals more than willingly retracting back into their internal sheaths. Even the flagrant scent of pure honey had become muted and easily ignored while focusing on one step after another being put down. The Combee that remained in the upper spaces of the chamber stared on, too. Their expressions were that of mortification, and none could be blamed with how their almighty monarch had been mounted and fucked into a sputtering, angry mess. 

He pushed his way into the tiny hole outward with no opposition other than his own weariness. There was a small resurgence of energy that came to be after having pressed on for this long. It wasn't much, but plenty enough to hasten his retreat since its coming surely meant that he was not the only one to experience it. Blinded and deaf once more, the shamble turned to a walk, and finally a sprint as the urgency of the situation sunk in deeper. The only way the Mothim could determine where 'up' might have been was by the crude method of finding where gravity hadn't attracted him. Not that it was really a choice for him to make when hesitating to discern his bearings may very well allow his untimely demise to catch back up with him. It's not like he remembered at all which directions he took to get down here in the first place. 

The relief of seeing that blue sky peer between vegetative camouflage was not quite on par with some of the other instances of the feeling today, but it was definitely enough to beat the remaining wax off his wings and take to a flying escape. Fresh winds immediately flooded into down his throat and cleansed out the stinging remnants of honey and airborne hormones. A questionable hover kept him in suspense for a few more moments, but eventually he remember how to zoom off above the trees and away from the aggravated hive. Each breath carried less and less of that distinct odor which lured him here, and the Mothim conceded he wasn't entirely sure he liked honey anymore.


End file.
